Page 100 of The Rust in Her Hair

Adrian works me like I'm the finest thing he's ever put his mouth on.

"That's it," someone murmurs at my side.

I turn my head and Owen's there, close, watching me with his glasses pushed up into his hair. His hazel eyes have gone dark and soft as he touches his cock, watching, drinking me in while Adrian works me over. There's so much love in his face that my throat goes tight around a moan.

He looks just like he did in those pictures.

On my other side, Mack sprawls back on one elbow, that easy grin tugging at his mouth, his blond hair loose around his shoulders. His hazelnut scent curls toward me and does the thing it always does, pulling my own mouth into a smile, even like this.

"Do you feel that, Adrian?" Mack drawls, delighted. "She's going to come. Goddamn, it’s a beautiful sight."

The coil in my belly winds tighter with every pass of Adrian's tongue, and my head falls back on a whimper.

Then warm breath ghosts over my ear.

"There's my good girl." Nico’s voice pours into me, dark and certain, and everything in me clenches at the sound of it.

He's suddenly at my back, lifting me. His big frame curves around mine while Adrian keeps licking.

"Look at you," Nico growls softly in my ear. "Riding Adrian's face so sweet. Being so good for us." His lips brush the shell of my ear, then down to my fresh mating bite. "That's what you are, Lyra. Our good omega."

I moan for him, high and needy, as the praise pulls the coil in me taut.. I want it. I want to be good for them more than I've ever wanted anything.

Theirs, kept, wanted, and touched like this until I forget I ever belonged to anyone else.

Adrian pushes a deep growl into my pussy and the heat crests. I'm right there, teetering, my body drawn bowstring-tight.

Then everything changes.

A sharp pain hits without warning. It’s a harsh, brutal stretch that tears straight up through the pleasure.

"What?" I try to lift my head, but I struggle to focus. Everything is a blur.

Suddenly, Adrian's gentle hands are gone. The pine is gone. And I force my eyes to focus on the alpha crawling over me. Then I see his face.

Crispin is between my legs.

Clove and whiskey flood my nose, thick enough to gag on, and I look down the length of my own body to where he's forcing himself into me. As his huge, obscene shaft breaches me, I watch in horror as a rush of blood flows out of me, staining my skin and soaking the sheets beneath. But Crispin doesn't care. He keeps driving into me, inch by inch, tearing me apart while I scream and fight.

"No!" The word rips out of me. "No, stop! I don't want this."

I twist my hips, thrashing, trying to throw the alpha off, but he's so heavy, pinning me down the way he did on my father's couch.

"I don't want you." I sob, wild, searching the dark past his shoulder. "I want Nico. Owen! I want my pack. Please, I want them, not you."

Then Nico’s face appears.

He stands just past my feet, Owen, Mack, and Adrian gathered behind him, and every one of them watches me with grief carved into their faces.

"Nico." I strain toward him, reaching for my alpha, while Crispin's weight crushes the breath out of me. "Please. Help me."

But Nico only shakes his head like he’s sorry.

"I wish we could keep you," he says, and his voice is so gentle, and it's somehow worse than anything Crispin is doing to me. "God, I wish we could. But you were never ours to keep, sweetheart."

"I am," I gasp. "I am yours. You mated me. You⁠—"

"But you gave yourself away, before I claimed you."